


A Paralleled Past

by TheSSClexa



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Actual plot, Character Death Fix, Clexa Halloween Week, Clexa Week, Clexa Week 2017, Clextober, Day 10, Divergent Timeline, F/F, Fix-It, Historical AU, Oct 29, Parallel Universe, Parallel Universes, Real scifi shit, Time Travel, Time Travel Fix-It, Weird Canon AU, clexa au, clexahalloweenweek, i don’t even know how to tag this, ish, mostly AU, partial canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-29
Updated: 2017-10-29
Packaged: 2019-01-20 09:27:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 9,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12429876
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSSClexa/pseuds/TheSSClexa
Summary: Waking, Lexa isn't in Polis anymore...aka, this is a parallel way that rights everything that was wronged in 3x07.Think Back to the Future meets Kate and Leopold-ish.C'mon, it's a short read, give it a chance!





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> No idea if this plot line has been done, sorry if it has and I didn't come across it. Hope you enjoy!

_Don’t be scared Clarke. Don’t be scared Clarke._ She thinks to herself as a chill takes over her body. She remembers Clarke’s warm lips on hers before the room darkened, though she doesn’t recall closing her eyes. _I love you Clarke._

∞

Focusing from a deep slumber, she groggily scans the room; white and sterile. The rays of bright lights from overhead tubes stings her eyes and she has to reclose them, feeling particularly disoriented like she had been drugged or poisoned. Lexa takes in a deep breath and swallows. She’s parched, but mostly overwhelmed trying to regain her bearings and recollect her memories. _Titus shot me. I was in Clarke’s room, with Clarke, in Polis._

Lexa reopens her eyes, more slowly this time and continues to examine her surroundings: white sheets, a glass window looking into an even paler hallway, white curtains, and a very annoying beeping instrument next to her. Regaining sensation in her fingertips, Lexa lifts her arm to find a needle inserted in her wrists. _What is this?_ She’s apprehensive, until she looks past the needle and tube, her eyes landing on a beautiful blonde curled up in a tan woven blanket and sleeping on a couch next to the bed. _Clarke._

“Clar..” Lexa tries to speak up, but there is an unbearable pain in her stomach. The gunshot wound, it severed her abdominal muscles and she’s barley able to contract her diaphragm for a one syllable word. Mustering her strength, Lexa tries again.

“Clarke?”

This time, she’s able to get Clarke to stir and Clarke opens her mesmerizing blue eyes, filled with love and relief. Although... something looks off about Clarke that Lexa can quite pinpoint. Lexa wonders how long she had been asleep. Days? Dare weeks? Because Clarke’s hair has been cut, shorter and dye reddish-pink much like the day when Roan has brought Clarke to Polis.

“Oh my god, Lexa!” Clarke sits up and quickly makes her way to the bedside, she leans in and gently hugs Lexa’s head.

Lexa tries to speak up, but she’s still unable to.

“It’s okay, I’m here,” says Clarke, looking into Lexa’s eyes. Clarke furrows her brow in a flash of mistake. It’s still Lexa, except there’s something off in her girlfriend’s eyes. Something foreign. Clarke dismisses it, and grabs a cup of water.

“Here, you’re probably thirsty,” says Clarke, holding the cup of water up to Lexa’s dry and cracked lips.

Lexa takes a few sips and pain sears across her abdomen as she swallows, but she ignores it. She’s been through worse before and thinks back to her conclave, the endless battles, clan wars, disputes with Azgeda, and now the blockade on Arkadia.

Clarke places a kiss on Lexa’s cheek.

“I’m going to get my mom, okay? To check on you, I’ll be right back.”

Before Lexa is able to ask Clarke to stay, Clarke is gone. Rescanning the room, Lexa can now make out additional details. The needle in her wrist is filled with some sort of clear liquid, tech next to her, like something from Mount Weather. _But Mount Weather was destroyed weeks ago, by Azgeda. Lexa_ considers maybe she’s in the Arkadia, but that doesn’t seem quite right either. Lexa pulls the needle from her wrist, startled to see that the end of the needle is tinged dark red instead of her usual nightblood. 

_What is going on?_

Before Lexa can give the color of her blood further thought, Clarke reenters with her mother, Abby.

“Lexa, good to see you’re up. Much faster than expected, you’re strong,” says Abby, “Hm, looks like your IV fell out.”

Abby picks up the needle and takes Lexa’s hand. Lexa quickly retracts but Abby looks at her reassuringly. “It’s okay Lexa, they’re just some fluids.”

Nodding, Lexa lets Abby reinsert the needle. 

“I’m just going to take a look at your eyes, okay?” says Abby.

Lexa nods again and Abby leans in with a small flashlight, uncomfortably shining it directly into Lexa’s eyes.

“Pupils and reflexes look good, can you move your feet, your toes Lexa?”

Looking down at her feet, Lexa wiggles her toes.

“Great,” say Abby.

Abby stands and walks to the beeping machine, pressing a few buttons and writing something down.

“Lexa, can you tell me what date it is today? Or the last date you remember,” asks Abby.

 _Date? What does she mean by date?_ Lexa shakes her head. _No_. There’s slight worry in Abby’s eyes.

“Okay, what about, the president. Do you know who our current president is?”

 _President?_ Lexa shakes her head again. _No._ That’s when she hears a sniffle from Clarke, looking over, she sees a tear fall from Clarke’s eyes.

“Clarke?” says Lexa.

Except, Abby responds, “That’s a good sign, you know who Clarke is. Do you know who I am?”

Lexa nods, clearing her scratchy throat and pushing past her abdominal pain, “Yes. You’re Abby, Clarke’s mother.”

“Good, sweetie. What about the last thing you remember?”

Lexa nods again, “Yes. I was shot,” and looks back at Clarke, “Clarke was there.”

“Good, very good,” replies Abby, except she steps aside, “Clarke, can I see you for a minute?”

Clarke and Abby step outside the door, except Lexa can see them through the glass window. They’re debating about something with arms waving and an offset body distance, Clarke is still crying. The blonde she holds in such regard, crying. _Don’t cry Clarke._ Abby leaves and Clarke reenters.

“Hey…” says Clarke quietly, walking over to sit by Lexa’s bedside, “You should probably rest some more.”

“Clarke, why are you crying?” asks Lexa, raising her hand to gently caress Clarke’s cheek and wiping a tear away with the pad of her thumb.

“Um, my mom said you might have some… some brain damage, from the blood loss. Your memory.”

Lexa shakes her head, “I don’t understand, I remember everything.”

“Lexa, you don’t even know the date or president.”

“I don’t know what that means. Clarke, where are we?”

“We’re at the Annapolis Medical Center.”

“Where in Polis?” asks Lexa, raising an eyebrow, unfamiliar with the terms Clarke just said.

“Annapolis.”

“You mean Polis.”

“No, I’m saying Annapolis,” and that’s when Clarke breaks into another set of tears.

Lexa feels incredibly powerless, watching Clarke cry.

“Please don’t cry Clarke. I’m here,” says Lexa as she offers her arm up for Clarke to lay down.

Clarke nods, gently laying down next to Lexa on the hospital bed.

“I love you Lexa,” says Clarke familiarly, like she’s said it a thousand times.

Slightly taken aback by Clarke’s casual use of the words, Lexa pauses for just a moment before returning the gesture, “I love you too, Clarke.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

When Lexa wakes from her nap, she is still in the white room. It’s later now, sometime in the afternoon and Clarke is sound asleep in her arms, snuggled closely in the crook of her neck. Lexa brushes several stray blonde waves away from Clarke’s cheek to admire her face. In the silence of the room less Lexa draws on her thoughts from hours ago. Clarke mentioned something about her memory, but Lexa is certain she remembers everything; her childhood, her training, her people – Anya, Titus, Indra, the conclave, the twelve—now thirteen—clans, the blockade, and of course, her afternoon with Clarke.

Thinking back to Abby’s questions, Lexa can’t fathom what she meant. _Date? President?_ She read in old books that the continent used to be run by a president, is that what Abby meant? But Abby said current president. That’s peculiar. Arkadia is run by a chancellor. Was there a new leadership structure since she was shot?

Lexa is pulled from her ruminations as Abby and another doctor enter the room. The sound of the clicking door wakes Clarke, who sits up from the side of Lexa’s bed, her warmth now gone.

“Lexa, I’m glad you’re awake. This is Doctor Jeff Smith, he’s going to ask you a few more questions, is that alright?”

Lexa nods.

“Clarke, honey, I don’t know if you want to be here for this,” Abby lightly suggests.

“No,” says Clarke. “I want to stay.”

Abby returns her attention to Lexa. “Okay sweetie, just answer as best you can okay? There’s no wrong answer.”

Lexa nods again, unsure why Abby is talking to her like a child, cautious and careful. 

“Okay,” Dr. Smith chimes in. “Let’s start with your name and birthdate?”

“Lexa. Or Heda, for Commander. I was born on the third moon in late summer.”

Dr. Smith’s eyes dart up, but he doesn’t say anything, and only takes a few notes. Abby is pressing her lips together. And Clarke, on the brink of tears, again.

“Okay, Lexa, can you tell me more about yourself?”

Lexa looks past Dr. Smith, “Clarke, Abby, you know who I am. I don’t understand these questions,” Lexa says.

“Please, Lexa,” says Dr. Smith gently and eyes the brunette for her attention. “I need answers directly from your own account.”

“I am the Commander of thirteen clans, now including Skaikru. I was born Trikru, a nightblood and brought to Polis to train, becoming Commander when the Spirit chose me during the conclave.”

Clarke bolts out the door and Abby follows.

“Wait, Clarke…?”

“Lexa, look at me,” says Dr. Smith “It’s okay. That’s… good. Can you tell me what you last remembered?”

“Yes. I was shot. By my mentor, and subject, Titus. He was angry with me, unwilling to avenge blood must have blood. _Jeus drein jues daun_. It’s always been the way of our people. He meant well, by trying to shoot Clarke. But I—I caught the bullet when I ran into the room.”

Dr. Smith doesn’t say anything, now taking notes in a feverish pace. 

“What is this about?” asks Lexa. “I need to know if everything in Arkadia is okay. The blockade I set up. I’m not sure how much longer I should stay here—they need me.”

“Okay, Lexa. Listen to me,” Dr. Smith replies with a reassuring voice. “Everything is okay, you don’t need to worry. They don’t need you and it’s okay for you to stay here. There’s nowhere you need to be.”

Lexa is hesitant to believe him. “But I’m the Commander—I have responsibilities,” Lexa attempts to explain to this stranger. “What about the blockade?”

“The blockade... is fine,” says Dr. Smith. “I promise you.”

Slowly, Lexa lets out another nod. Clearly she is not going anywhere soon.

“Okay, well, I think that’s enough for you today. I’ll be back in a week, alright?”

“What about Clarke?”

“I’ll have her come back in,” says Dr. Smith on his way out.

Dr. Smith leaves the hospital room and rendezvous with Abby and Clarke down the hall in a waiting area. There are scatter unoccupied chairs and the low hum of a single vending machine accompanies them. Clarke’s tears have stopped and she is leaning into Abby with arms draped over her beloved daughter.

“Jeff, how does she seem?” asks Abby.

“Well. It’s difficult to say, she certainly has a very solid account of a different past. I wouldn’t call it memory loss. She spoke with unusual confidence and clarity.”

“I don’t understand, so what does that mean?” asks Clarke.

“Sometimes, after a traumatic experience, the brain… makes things ups. Hallucinations or some other account to mask the experience. Although hers were quite detailed. I believe she might even have made up an entirely new language. What the brain does sometimes can be quite complex. If we don’t see improvement, I’m afraid we’ll need to submit her to some brain scans, a full psychological evaluation, and… and possibly admittance into the Maryland Psychiatric Hospital.”

“What?!” cries Clarke. “No!”

“Clarke, honey,” Abby tries to reason, but Clarke takes off running back towards Lexa’s room.

“Lexa!”

Lexa looks up as Clarke barges back into the room, still with a tear streaked face.

“Clarke? Is everything alright?”

“What did you tell him?”

“I answered all his questions. That I’m the Commander of thirteen clans. I’m a nightblood and became Commander after the Spirit chose me. You know all this, why?”

Except Clarke is shaking her head, unable to look at Lexa, “No, Lexa... No… God, where _are_ you?”

“I’m right here Clarke.”

“No Lexa, what is this… Commander nonsense? Clans? Nightblood? What are you even saying?”

Lexa is baffled at Clarke’s reaction. Something isn’t right. Lexa should have known the instant she pulled the needle from her wrist.

“Clarke. Did you fall from the sky?”

“What? Is this another one of your stupid pickup lines? Cause we’re way beyond that,” replies Clarke.

“What’s a pickup line?”

Clarke looks at Lexa in disbelief.

“This can’t be happening, oh my god,” Clarke says to herself and begins to pace the room. “This can’t be fucking happening… my girlfriend has lost her damn mind—“ 

“Clarke!” Lexa yells, stern and serious. It’s tone Clarke has never heard, assertive and commanding and it pulls Clarke out of her senseless panic.

“Look at me Clarke, just answer the question, did you or did you not fall from the sky?”

“No Lexa, I didn’t fall from the sky. I’ve never been in a plane crash, is that what you mean?”

Lexa shakes her head, something really isn’t right.

“Clarke, where have you been staying for the past few months?”

“What kind of question is that?”

To Lexa, Clarke had been with her in Polis for the past few months, as her ambassador.

“We live together Lexa.”

Not quite the answer Lexa is looking for.

“Where do we live Clarke?”

“New York, in an apartment. We both go to Columbia, that’s how we met. Is school? We came to Annapolis, on a weekend trip to visit my mom. We went out, you wanted to check out the Naval Academy, maybe put in an application for Officer Candidate School. We were leaving and… and that’s when you caught a stray bullet when we decided to detour through the park. Don’t you remember any of that?”

Lexa’s expression is difficult for Clarke to read, it’s more calculated than usual and definitely not someone who is suffering from memory loss. There is no trace of delusion. Lexa’s green eyes are sharp and lucid, filled with maturity and a type of depth Clarke doesn’t remember her girlfriend having. Like Lexa had lived an entirely different lifetime.

“Lexa?”

“Something’s not right Clarke. I don’t belong here.”


	3. Chapter 3

“What? What do you mean you don’t belong here Lexa?” Clarke responds.

“I don’t know how to explain it. But this is not the world I come from.”

“Lexa, the doctor said that it was possible for the brain to make up things after a traumatic experience. Just listen to me, you can’t, go around with a different story like it’s the medieval times.”

“No Clarke, listen to me. I’m not falsifying anything. I don’t know what happened or how. But I need to get back, to where I’m from. They need me…. _You_ need me. Please, you have to believe me. Help me get back to where I belong.”

Clarke looks into Lexa’s eyes, searching. Searching for the woman she’s known and loved. Though Lexa clearly still returns Clarke’s love, her own girlfriend isn’t there, but someone different. Clarke can tell, Lexa isn’t lying and far from trauma and hallucination. The full confidence in Lexa’s words and demeanor is beyond compelling, and Clarke believes her.

“Okay,” replies Clarke lightly. “I’ll help you. But, in the meantime, while you’re here, we should focus on your recovery first. Okay?”

Lexa nods.

 

∞

 

Lexa spends another week in the hospital recovering with Clarke at her side. Clarke doesn’t ask too many questions, secretly hoping that “her” Lexa would come back, but also complately convinced that this woman truly did not belong in the _this_ time and place.

“Here, they said you can start having some coffee again,” says Clarke, handing Lexa a cup of coffee.

Lexa is cautions of the black colored liquid, taking the cup and peering into it tentatively. The aroma is nice, warm and smells full and sweet. So, Lexa takes a sip. The moment the hot liquid touches her tongue, Lexa spits it out like poison. It’s bitter and nothing close to its scent.

“Clarke, what is this!?”

“Coffee, black, the way you like it. I know hospital coffee sucks, but you don’t have to spit it out like that,” replies Clarke, grabbing a few napkins to clean up Lexa’s mess.

“I’ve never had this in my life,” Lexa says and places the cup back on the tray. “Can I have more of that red gelatin substance?”

“It’s called JELLO and it’s eight in the morning. JELLO comes later,” replies Clarke.

“Oh. It’s good, wish we had it back in Polis…”

Clarke puts her hand on her forehead, hanging onto the last of her skepticism, which is saying a lot compared to “her” Lexa. A women Clarke has known to be overly mature, rational, and practically Vulcan though Clarke does love her for her dry sense of humor and the way Lexa loves her back.

They’re interrupted as Abby pops her head back in.

“Hey girls, Dr. Smith is going to come back in, check on Lexa’s progress.”

Clarke and Lexa nod, but there’s concerning look on Clarke’s face.

“Clarke, what is it?”

“Aw shit, he’s a day early. Look, Lexa, you have to answer Dr. Smith’s questions differently. They said they were going to send you to a different hospital, a psychiatric one.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s just—not good. Listen to me. Remember this, you were born on August 1, 1996. Your last name is Woods and we go to Columbia together. You major in Political Science. Your mom died when you were five, and your father, two years ago actually. The date today is October 29th, 2017. Our President is Donald Trump—you did _not_ vote for him. Actually, sometimes you refer to him as He-who-must-not-be-name—“

”He who what?”

”Nevermind, that’s not important and also a super long story.”

”Also, remember the President before him was Obama. And if he asks you to elaborate on Polis or your life as a Commander, just… don’t or say you don’t remember.”

Lexa nods, trusting Clarke.

Doctor Smith enters and Clarke insists she stays and Dr. Smith proceeds with the questions. 

Lexa is smart, remembering everything Clarke just mentioned and returning her gaze to Clarke’s when she needes help. To help influence Lexa’s evaluation, Clarke nods or shakes her head to aid with questions, desperate to keep Lexa out of the psych ward.

As Dr. Smith wraps up his notes, Clarke steps up with him into the hallway.

“What do you think?” Clarke asks. 

“Better. Though much more hesitant with her response than last time—it’s at least accurate. It looks good. Very good.”

“Are you… still going to need to send Lexa to the psych ward?”

“No Clarke, based on what I just saw, probably not. I’ll finish my write up and depending on how she’s healing, you gals will likely get to go home soon.”

“Great, thank you.”

 

∞

 

A few days later, Lexa is discharged from the hospital and Clarke helps her into the car.

“Where are all the horses? And trees? The forest.”

“What? Everybody drives cars now Lexa. We live in the city, just wait ‘til we get home to New York. Christ, I swear you’re from the mid-century. This is some weird ass Kate and Leopold shit.”

Lexa is overwhelmed by the amount of cars, concrete, and technology. A few minutes down the road, Clarke turns a corner filled with protesters and picket signs.

“What’s happening here, Clarke?”

“Oh, just some protestors. They’re about to build a massive sky scraper here in Annapolis, the town doesn’t want it.”

As Clarke continues around the corner, Lexa catches sight of a printed image of the sky scraper. _The Polis Tower. Her Polis Tower._

“Wait! Stop.”

“What, Lexa?” replies Clarke. She slams the breaks and pulls over. “Are you feeling sick? Do you need to throw up?”

“No. That.” Lexa says and poins to the COMING SOON sign.

“Yes, that’s the sky scraper they’re going to build.”

“No, that’s the Polis Tower. _My_ Polis Tower… it’s not built yet…”

Clarke replies with a look of confusion, eyebrows furrowed deep and eyes skeptical. 

“Maybe there’s a reason why I’m here,” says Lexa. “Where I’m from, the building exists.”

Lexa thinks; the Polis Tower was a ruin when she inhabited it, and now, it’s just a concept. To Lexa’s realization, she is from the future, not the past. She’s in a time before the destruction of the tower, and therefore, before the first explosion, and before _Praimfaya_. Is she here to stop the destruction of mankind? To save the world before hers?

“Clarke, maybe I’m here to save… save the world?”

“Okay, just… stop right there.” Clarke closes her eyes and takes in a deep breath. “Let’s just… get home, grab some dinner and we can talk about this… Polis of yours, okay?”

Lexa nods, sittoing back to digest her own words. It’s a wild theory; she’s from a paralleled future world.

Clarke continues driving though Lexa gets car sick and they have to pull over several times for Lexa to regain her bearings. They eventually make it back to New York by late afternoon and Lexa is taken aback by the overpowering sight of New York City. Buildings upon buildings, metal, glass, and other varying grey’s mask the skyline. Balconies are scattered with drying laundry, plastic chairs, and the overwhelming amount of people steal Lexa’s attention.

“Clarke, how many people live here?”

“In New York? I dunno, maybe like eight million.”

Lexa’s eyes go wide, “Eight million?”

“Yeah, something like that. Nothing compared to the world’s population. We’re somewhere around seven and a half billion now.”

“ _Billion_?”

“Yeah, babe.”

“Why are you calling me babe?”

“Uh… sorry, Lexa,” says Clarke, caught off guard by Lexa’s reaction to her usual pet name.

“Seven billion. I _am_ here to save them, Clarke.” Lexa turns to look at Clarke. “And here to save you.”

Clarke puts up a soft  hand. “We went over this Lex, we can talk about this later, just let me get us home. Wait—can I call you Lex?”

“Sure.”

Clarke unlocks the door to their apartment. It’s small, homey and cozy with furnished basics. Lexa looks around, studying the room and stops at a large metal box filled with pictures. She pauses at several of her and Clarke together, it’s definitely images of Lexa, but in another life. One of them depicts them sunbathing on a beach, another, Clarke giving Lexa a piggy back ride with a large circular wheel in the background, and another, sitting together at a dining table among a table of friends with food and drinks. They look—happy.

“Clarke?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you… show me around? I don’t know what anything is. What is this?” asks Lexa, pointing to the metal box with their pictures.

“That’s the refrigerator, it keeps food cold. And that’s the stove, fire – to cook stuff, don’t burn yourself.” Clarke continues to describe and demonstrate all the basics as if she’s talking to someone from the Middle Ages. “Running water – red for hot, blue for cold. Television – don’t believe anything you see.” Clarke flicks on the TV. “Laptop – um, if you want to look something up. Think of it as an endless library. The bathroom is in here, same running hot and cold water, and this is where we sleep,” Clarke finishes and opens door into their bedroom. A comfortable looking queen bed with a few candles throughout the room.

Lexa nods in appreciation but can’t push past the feeling of intrusiveness. So, Lexa takes a seat by the couch.

“Do you have any books, something I can read or do?”

Clarke picks up a thin metallic object and hands it to Lexa.

“This is your iPad. Here.”

Clarke shows Lexa how to turn it on and off, the home button, as well as the iBooks app if Lexa wants to read. Clarke then opens the web browser, Google homepages and begins to explain. “Like the laptop, you can also type in anything you want to know in this search box. Also, don’t believe everything you see, but, maybe the news app is a good place to start.”

“News?”

“Here, this one,” replies Clarke, pointing and opening the white ‘N’ on a red background rounded square among a dozen other’s on the iPad’s home page. “Recent happenings in the world.”

“Oh, okay,” replies Lexa.

“Hey babe—uh... Lexa. I’m going to go to the store and pick up something for dinner. Will you be okay by yourself?”

Lexa replies without looking, still in awe from the bright screen of the iPad, twisting and turning it around to try and figure out how it worked. “Uh- yes. I’ll be okay.”

“Okay, just don’t… don’t touch the stove.”

Lexa nods as Clarke leaves and she turns her attention back to the iPad. The device is intuitive to use and whenever Lexa didn’t know what to do, simply clicked on the circular home button to bring her back to start. After some time with the device, Lexa opens the news app Clarke showed her and spots an image of the Polis Tower, again. Lexa opens article, which expanded on the protestors against the construction of the massive tower in Annapolis.

Using “the Google” and not quite sure why the keyboard wasn’t in alphabetical order, Lexa browses and reads more and about the Polis Tower, which is to be built by a company whose corporate logo was an infinity symbol. _The Sacred Symbol._ Diving deeper and deeper into her own history, Lexa learns about the tech company, bordering biomedical engineering with their top scientist, Becca Primes.

“Bekka Primheda,” Lexa whispers to herself.

The latest news and technology reports a type of artificial intelligence to help the human population as well as a mutated adaptive blood for deep space missions. _Nightblood._ Lexa wonders if she could reach Becca via meditation and seeking the Spirt of the Commanders.  So, Lexa sliding the coffee table aside with her feet and sits in a cross legged position against the couch. Just as she closes her eyes, Clarke opens the door.

“Hey, Lex—“ Clarke is clearly puzzled at the unfamiliar scene of Lexa sitting crossed legged on the floor. “Are you... meditating?”

“Clarke. Hi. I was trying to reach the Spirit of the Commanders.”

“The what? Never mind, don’t tell me. I picked up some pizza for tonight and food for the rest of the week.”

“What’s pizza?”

“Serious?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some clarification, consider modern day Lexa in limbo. She is not in Polis with Skaikru Clarke.


	4. Chapter 4

After returning from the store, Clarke puts the groceries away and places a thin, flat, and hot brown box on the coffee table.

“I got your favorite,” Clarke says. “Pepperoni and pineapple.”

Lexa doesn’t recognize the round shaped nutriment decorated with red circles and small chunks of yellow… something. But it does smell really good.

Clarke pulls a triangular slice; white, stringy strands peelin from the sides as red sauce oozes off. She puts it on a plate and hands it to Lexa.

“Here, you’ll like,” Clarke says and looks confidently into Lexa’s eyes. “Trust me.”

Lexa has decides she likes _this_ Clarke. There’s a hint of more certainty—not that Clarke isn’t sure about herself—but here, there’s a comforting sense of familiarity and belonging. Probably because, in this world, she and Clarke have been together for years. It is something Lexa wishes deeply for back in Polis; a day when neither of them have responsibilities to their peoples. It’s clear she and Clarke have it here.

Slowly, Lexa takes small bite and chews. And despite the foreign flavors, it’s delicious. Savory witha hint of sweetness a Lexa proceeds with less caution, taking large bites into her slice. 

“See,” Clarke nudges Lexa with her foot. “I told ya,” Clarke says and winks as her girlfriend. It draws a smile from Lexa, and a low, flirtatious churn mixes with the pizza in her stomach.

“So,” Clarke says while taking a seat next to Lexa with her own slice. “Tell me about this Polis you live in, and how I fell out of the sky,” says Clarke.

Lexa proceeds with the world she knows. About Skaikru falling from the sky, the twelve clans, and the Mountain. 

“Wait, Mount Weather is a nuclear bunker. Do you mean to tell me people were actually living in there?” asks Clarke.

“Yes, the Mountain Men. They couldn’t breathe our air, die of sores all over their skin. We were at war. Kidnapping and killing thousands of my people for experiments.”

“If there were people in Mount Weather, then you’re telling me there was a nuclear war.”

“My people called it Priamfaya. I was looking at ‘the Google.’ We’re in a time before that. I believe the Spirit of the Commanders sent me here to stop it. Here,” Lexa grabs the iPad and opens it to what she was looking at, an article on top scientist and engineer, Becca Primes.

“I have to find Bekka.”

“Whoa, this is crazy Lex. I mean, it’s a lot.”

“Why else would I be here Clarke?”

“Okay, just— I think I’ve had my fill. Let’s just sleep on this, okay?” suggest Clarke, overwhelmed that Lexa is now talking about potential nuclear war.

Clarke picks up their plates and closes the half eaten pizza box, stuffing the box loosely in the fridge. Lexa watches as the jumble of pictures of her and Clarke sway as she closes the fridge.

“Clarke?”

“What?”

“What’s it like—to live together, like this?”

Clarke returns to her cross-legged position on the floor. “It’s… nice. Well, you were just accidently shot of course, but I’ll take any version of you back any day,” Clarke says with a lighthearted smile. And in that moment, Clarke wants to lean in and give her girlfriend a kiss but refrains, unsure of what paranormal boundaries she would be crossing.

“Like I mentioned before,” Clarke continues. “We go to school together. We have different class schedules but meet almost every day for lunch. Binge watch Netflix, procrastinating schoolwork. Go to the laundry mat on Wednesdays and ice cream on Thursdays. It’s really not that exciting, but nevertheless, we’re together.”

Clarke’s words compell large smile across Lexa’s face, even though Lexa isn’t sure what Netflix is. It’s tempting to stay; Lexa considers forgetting about Polis and simple live this life she’s been thrown into with Clarke. But, she can never. She has responsibilities as the Commander and cannot ignore her origins. Reaching out, Lexa places her hand on Clarke’s cheek, observant of a sea of kindness, compassion, and love. She is unable to hold back her feelings—it’s already been too long—and Lexa leans in to place a single kiss on Clarke’s lips. Clarke gently kisses her back and it’s as if they never shared different worlds; their love easily bridging the supernatural gap. The kiss is simple, closed and they naturally part. 

“Maybe someday...” Lexa murmurs. 

“I’m sorry,” Clarke says. She isn’t apologizing for the kiss, but remorseful for the world Lexa comes from, full of duties and responsibilities.  “C’mon.” Clarke intertwine their hands. “We should get you to bed. You should rest some more.”

Clarke helps Lexa off the floor and Lexa winces lightly at her twitching abdomen muscles, still sore and healing. 

“Um, you should have the bed— I’ll um, I can sleep out here on the couch,” Clarke offers. 

“You don’t have to do that,” Lexa says. “Please, stay?”

Clarke nods, helping Lexa into bed and laying comfortable beside her. Quietly, Clarke studies the Lexa lying beside her. Though it isn’t Lexa, everything about here is the same. Her mannerisms and expressions. Lexa is staring wide-eyed at the ceiling. It’s her thinking face. 

“I can see you thinking,” says Clarke.

Lexa tips her head sideways, “I can’t help but worry about you. I mean, the other ‘you’ I left in Polis.”

“Hey,” Clarek says and reaches to place a hand over to Lexa’s. “We’re both, here, now. Just get some rest and we can worry more in the morning.”

Lexa nods and Clarke places a kiss on Lexa’s cheek before they fall asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

Lexa opens her eyes and her morning blurry gaze centers on a soft blue hue, focused on her.

“Morning Clarke… are you okay?”

Clarke brushes a wavy strand of hair from Lexa’s face. “Yeah… just, looking. You’re—just like her, especially when you sleep.”

“I’m sorry I’m not her.”

“Don’t be. I didn’t mean it like that,” Clarke smiles apologetically. “I mean, you are her. You may not have the same past or the same experiences, but everything else is the same. Personality, responses, mannerisms, thought process. And even—even the way you look at me. It’s the same.”

“Our love is the same.”

Clarke smiles as the simplified statement. “Mm, I like that.” She reaches for a lose strand of brown hair and plays with it, twirling around her index finger before tucking it behind Lexa’s ear. “Come on, feel ready to try and shower?”

Lexa had on received washcloth baths at the hospital during her recover and has yet to fully bath. Lexa nods, and Clarke proceeds to help Lexa out of bed.

Instinctive to Clarke, but foreign to Lexa, Clarke begins to strip and Lexa gulps at the _rate_ Clarke is taking off her clothes. Casually kicking off her pants and pulling her shirt overhead. 

“Clarke, why are you taking off your clothes?”

“I was going to… you know, join in and help you, considering your mobility,” Clarke says, now stopping her undress. “I thought you said we’re together in your world.”

“Well…” Lexa says in a slightly high pitch.

“We’re not?”

“No, we are. We definitely are… just… once.”

“Oh,” replies Clarke with understanding. Slowly, Clarke shifting her shirt from inside out and puts it back on. “Um, that’s okay. I’ll just be out here, if you need any help.” Just as Clarke steps out the bathroom door, Lexa calls her name.

“Clarke.”

Clarke pokes her head back in, “Yeah?”

“Actually, can you… get the water started for me?”

“Yep.” Clarke turns on the shower and adjusts the temperature while Lexa moves to pull her shirt over her head but finds that she can’t extend her arms over her head.

“Wait, Clarke, can you?” Lexa looks down at her shirt, cheeks flushing a soft pink, embarrassed to be asking for more help with a simple shirt. 

“Of course,” Clarke says with a kind and caring tone, and proceeds to help Lexa take off her shirt. Clarke is careful and gentle, guide the shirt around Lexa’s arms until the brunette is topless. She spares Lexa from asking again and automotically moves to undress Lexa’s bottoms. “Here, let me.” With Lexa fully undressed, Clarke pulls the shower curtain back and helps Lexa step into the tub. “Good?”

“Yes… thank you, Clarke.”

The hot water is both soothing and refreshing on Lexa’s skin, lathering herself in a clean, floral scented soap. Except for the healing bullet would, Lexa finds her lack of battle scars and ink markings incredibly bizarre. When Lexa exits the shower, she discovers the bed made and a folded set clothes laid out for her. A grin pulls at the corner’s the Lexa’s lips from the loving gesture. 

”Mm, I really like these clothes Clarke,” Lexa says as she emerges from the bedroom. “They fit really well.”

”Well they’re yours. Except you did steal that t-shirt from me.” Clarke points to the soft black shirt with her old high school mascot she picked out for Lexa. “But, it fits you better anyway,” Clarke says with a satisfying smile. “Hungry?”

Clarke pours them both a bowl of cereal and Lexa takes a seat at the table. She pokes at the “O” shaped grains floating in milk while Clarke scrolls through what Lexa can only perceive as a handheld version of the iPad—the iPhone.

“Hm, what was the name of the scientist you need to find again?”

“Bekka.”

“Becca Primes?” Clarke inquires and turns her phone to show Lexa an image of a bespectacled woman in a lab coat.

“Yes, that’s her.”

“Well, if you’re here for a reason, then so is she. She’s speaking tonight a five. Holding a lecture on campus. Havemeyer Hall.”

“We can go see her?”

“Yes, we’re students there. We can definitely go see her.”

 

∞

 

Clarke and Lexa enter grand lecture hall and finding a pair of seats two rows back from the front aisle. The room begins to fill with a mixture of audiences from young students to senior professor and university staff, but no Becca in sight.

“When is she going to be here Clarke?”

“I’m sure she’ll be soon, traffic into the city sucks and if she drove, then probably battling for parking.”

Sure enough, Becca strolls in through the side door and immediately takesher place at the podium. She flips on the mic with easy familiarity—like she’s been here before and done a thousand lectures—and drops the white presentation screen. 

“Good evening everyone, sorry for the delay but the parking situation here was not kind to me. We’ll get started right away.”

Clarke raises her hand.

Lexa leans over and whispers, “What are you doing Clarke?”

“I have a question, you raise your hand here if you have a question.”

Becca spots Clarke with her hand up, “Yes?”

“Will there be time to speak with you afterwards?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll be taking all questions after my presentation.”

Becca starts her lecture with the press of a button, diving into futuristic theories on artificial intelligence and melding it with the human bio-neural structure via an implanted device or chip. Clarke finds this fascinating, however, Lexa is disappointed when Becca’s presentation ends without a single mention of nightblood.

At the end of the presentation, Clarke and Lexa approach the front of lecture hall and stand behind a small line of professors and students. They patiently wait for Becca’s audience to clear before they’re about to deliver a preposterous set of words to the rational scientist.

“Hi, I’m Clarke, and this is Lexa.”

“Good evening, so what questions can I help you with?” Becca says.

“Well… it’s not exactly a question we have. Gosh, this is going to sound crazy...” Clarke reconsiders her approach, but Lexa speaks as if she has no time to waste.

“Bekka, we need your help to stop the end of the world.”

“Excuse me, but what?”

“I come from a different time, a different place, sometime in the future. You were the first commander, you fell from the sky and reconsolidated mankind from Praimfaya.”

Clarke interjects to clarify, “Nuclear war! She means nuclear war when she says that.”

The scientist displays utter confusion. “I’m sorry ladies, but I really don’t… Are you students here? At Columbia?”

“Yes, we’re students,” Clarke reassures Becca, worried that the scientist was seconds away from contacting campus security. “I know it sounds crazy, outrageous. But you’re a scientist, right? And technically, mathematically, eleven different universes can exists. It hasn’t been disproven.”

“Well, no, but I don’t understand what that has to do with me? My work is on human technology, not theoretical physics,” replies Becca.

“Well what if those parallel universes crossed?” and Clarke looks at Lexa. “She’s proof.”

“I still don’t understand what I have to do with this. Is this some sort of Halloween joke? Did Greg put you on to this?”

This time, Lexa interjects, “Your work on the black blood, nightblood. I am one. At least, where I’m from I am. It’s typically passed down from generation to generations, although sometimes skips a generation and makes a random appearance in a new lineage.” 

“Wait, how do you know about that? I didn’t reveal anything about genetic markers for my work, it’s just a few notes I jotted the other day.”

Clarke urges Lexa, “Tell her more.”

Lexa continues, “Those with nightblood are the only ones than can accept the flame.” Lexa points at a primordial version of Becca’s chip displayed on the presentation screen.

“My chip, yes, it’s developed to only work with the genetic marker. I just hypothesized that—without notes—there’s no way you can know this information.”

“Do you believe us now?” asks Clarke.

Becca looks at the couple skeptically. “I wouldn’t jump to belief, but let’s say you have my attention now.”

“Okay, well, something happens that causes a nuclear apocalypse. Where Lexa’s from, she said people inhabited Mount Weather, the nuclear fallout bunker.”

“I still don’t see how this connects to me.”

“That’s why we need you,” says Lexa. “You’re the key to helping us stop it.”

For some reason, as Becca looks into Lexa’s eyes, she sees a peculiar depth; knowledge and maturity from a hundred lifetimes. The pair of emerald marbles generate an uncomfortable stir in Becca’s stomach, like a fortune teller reading mass death through a crystal ball. Becca doesn’t believe in fate or fortune-telling. Except, Lexa’s gaze exhibits steadfast pull, compelling Becca to believe her. And somehow, Beccon sees a piece of herself _in_ Lexa.

Slowly, Becca nods and reaches for a business card in her pocket.

“Here, take my card. I’ll be here in New York for the next two weeks. I have an office in our main engineering facility downtown. Send me an email. I’ll just need to double check my schedule."

“What’s an email?” Lexa starts.

“No, sshhh,” Clarke hushes Lexa and quickly takes the business card. “We’ll be in touch. Thank you.”


	6. Chapter 6

Following her presentation, Becca returns to her New York office after a light dinner that evening, still curious and bewildered. She is unable to focus on anything else but the eerie sense the brunette had brought with her during their conversation. _Nuclear apocalypse?_

Becca sits down at her desk overlooking the Hudson River and opens up her desktop. Nineteen new emails, including on from the girls. Senders: C.Griffin@columbia.edu with L.Woods@columbia.edu cc’d. So the girls aren’t lying about being students.

Becca bypasses their email, mentally deciding to deal with it in the morning and browses through the rest of her inbox automatically deleting spam and ads that refuse to be redirected into her junk inbox. Finally, Becca lands on an email from one of her closest colleagues collaborating on their artificial intelligence project. Project ALIE.

In addition to being password protected, the email is encrypted. Becca ciphers through and opens the email to find that their project, Project ALIE, has been granted approval for upload and integration into the National Defense System. This is great news. Becca had been seeking this approval for the last six months, arduously navigating through the White House, Defense Department, and Department of Homeland Security. Once integrated, ALIE job would align all systems, acting as a single point of access across departments and sndoubtedly saving hundreds of man hours, increasing efficiency by 200%.

Unexpectedly, looming realization dawns on her like a supernova engulfing feeble plant. With ALIE’s connection and upload to the National Defense System, she would have access to all of the country’s nuclear weapons. _No._ ALIE is designed to help mankind, not destroy it. But, there’s always a chance. Perverse Instantiation: defined as the implementation of a benign final goal through deleterious methods unforeseen by a human programmer. If the girls are speaking the truth, then Becca herself is  the cause of the nuclear apocalypse.

Becca reaches for her phone and dials her colleague.  

“Greg! Oh thank goodness. You can’t upload ALIE into the defense system. At least, not yet.”

“What? Why, this has been our goal Becca!”

“Just, I need to run a few more simulations.”

“Okay… Always running simulations,” Greg replies. “Anyway, ALIE is plugged in but hasn’t integrated yet. I promised that the upload will be in the mainframe by the end of the week. So you have a week.”

Becca exhales in relief, “Okay, thanks.”

 

∞

 

“Wow, she actually emailed us back. Becca says she can meet us tomorrow morning at nine,” says Clarke. She reading from her laptop while sitting on the couch. “Any other ideas on what to tell her?”

“I’m not sure, I just know she’s our solution. I can feel it Clarke,” replies Lexa.

Clarke looks up from the glowing screen to a pacing Lexa. The brunette’s hands are threaded behind her back, pausing to tap a foot. Clarke knows that Lexa only paces when she’s worried.

“Hey Lex?”

“Yes?”

“Um… if we stop the nuclear apocalypse, here. What will happen to your timeline, your universe?”

“I don’t know, I’ve thought about that too,” Lexa replies and walks towards Clarke, settling in the seat beside her. “But at least… at least I’ll know I’ll be saving you, here and now.”

Lexa leans foward and places a small, innocent kiss on Clarke’s lips. The acquitted moment quickly shifts as Clarke lets the laptop slide off her thighs and pulls Lexa closer, whimpering lightly. Lexa lets Clarke draw her in deeper and they become entangled in each other’s lips. Clarke is captured in a wave of comfort and familiarity. And Lexa, in a rush of exhilaration since she last kissed Clarke like this back in Polis, hot and heavy with coaxing tongues and ragged breaths. 

The sound of Clarke’s phone ringing on the coffee table interrupts their affair and it immediately pulls them both back into reality— _this reality._

“I’m… sorry,” said Clarke. “I didn’t mean…”

The phone is still ringing and Clarke ignores it, still focused on Lexa’s eyes.

“It’s okay…” Lexa says, and smirks. “Plus I’m the one that started it...”

Clarke silences her phone, effectively declining the call from her mother. “I’ll call her back later,” Clarke mutters and scoots back comfortably on the couch. “Want to, just, lay together?”

Lexa accepts Clarke’s invite and crawls forward to lay with Clarke, partly beside and partly on Clarke with her head resting on Clarke’s shoulder. They lay in silence, playing with each other’s hands: twirling, interlocking, and unlocking, until they both fall asleep.

Flashing headlights from a passing car lightens the living room and the glow wakes Clarke. Lexa is still asleep on top of her and Clarke reaches for her phone.  The screen displays the time, 2:14 A.M., along with a string of texts from her mother. Clarke singlehandedly texts a reply to her mother: sorry, fell asleep, call you tomorrow.

Clarke’s shifting movements cause Lexa to wake in a haze.

“Wanna go to bed?” whispers Clarke.

Lexa nods, able to slowly prop herself up and off Clarke.

“Your mobility seems a lot better.”

“Thanks, moving helps. I should start training again, soon,” Lexa mumbles.

“Excuse me, what?”

“Training. I’m a warrior Clarke. Have you never seen me fight?”

Clarke is stunned. “Uh, that’s a definite no. You don’t fight Lexa, at least not here.”

“Oh, then what do I do?”

“Well, other than being a student, you did play soccer in high school.”

“What’s soccer?”

“OMG. Never mind. C’mon, bed.”

 

∞

 

Clarke and Lexa are greeted by a metal detector when they walk into Becca’s building. Infinite Corp marked with tall glass doors, while marble floors, and stainless steel trim. After successfully passing through security scans, they stroll up to the main counter and Clarke leads.

“We have an appointment with Becca at nine.”

The guard nods and picks up the phone. “Hi yes, Becca, I have two young ladies here to see you.” The guard returns her gaze to the couple. “Please take a seat, Becca said she’ll be out shortly.”

While they sit in waiting area, Clarke and Lexa can’t help but notice all the guards patrolling the building. Two entering from where they came in, four at the elevator entrance, and at least another pair cycling each minute. After several minutes, Becca appears from the elevators.

“Ladies. Follow me.”

Becca leads them to the elevator, scanning her badge to push the up button. Upon entering, Becca scans her badge again for access to the 11th floor. They exit the elevator, only to be greeted by another security measure as Becca beeps her badge and punches in a numeric code to gain access through a set of stainless steel doors.

While walking down the hallway, they pass various labs. Some are filled with computer screens and robotic appendages, while others with microscopes, centrifuges, and vials. Becca turns into an office across from one of the larger computer control rooms.

“Have a seat, girls.”

“Thanks, for actually seeing us again,” replies Clarke.

“Honestly, I didn’t intend on it. However, circumstances recently changed.”

“What do you mean?” asks Lexa.

“Well, as you may know, publicly, I’ve been also doing some work on artificial intelligence. Without breaching my security contract, let’s just say I now have reason to believe that my actions as a programmer may be the reason for your… nuclear apocalypse.”

“What?” Clarke reacts. 

“Don’t be alarmed, which is the sole reason I called you in here. I can’t exactly share this information over the phone or via email, no matter how secure. Have you girls spoken to anybody else about this?”

“No, you’re the primary and sole person we’ve spoken to,” Lexa says. 

“That’s good. I wanted to let you know I’ve taken preventative measure and you two no longer have to worry.”

“Wait, what about Lexa? How will we know if it’s truly accomplished?” Clarke asks. 

“That’s… I don’t know,” responds Becca honestly. “They may have very well been changed, the moment I decided to take additional measures. Do you trust me?”

About to speak, Lexa is interrupted by an incoming call flashing on Becca’s video screen.

Becca glances up. “I’m sorry, I have to take this,” she says and walks to her phone desk.

“Hello. Hi Greg. What? What do you mean the upload started, you promised me a week? Secondary backup? No, this can’t… Shit…”


	7. Chapter 7

Becca slams her phone and turns her attention to her computer, typing frantically. Her brow begins to sweat in a panic as she reaches her network destination.

“27% uploaded, no…" Becca murmurs, while Clarke and Lexa remain sitting idle in Becca's office sofa. 

“Bekka?” Lexa attempts to reach the scientist. 

“I’m sorry girls, I need to take care of this," Becca says. She then contacts security to escort Clarke and Lexa out of the building. “Yes hi, this is Becca Primes. Can I get a guard to escort two back to the lobby, thanks.”

Within a few minutes, four guards enter Becca’s office.

Becca looks up, “I only needed one escort.”

But the guards don't look like they are there for Clarke and Lexa. They are on a different mission.

“Sorry Becca, we just received a new set of orders. We need you to stop what you’re doing and come with us.”

“What? Oh my god, it’s ALIE, she has adaptive programming, she knows I’m trying to shut her down. Listen to me, those aren’t real orders. They’re fabricated, from an artificial intelligence that _I_ created,” Becca says with desperation in her voice and somehow, typing even faster than she was before.

The lead guard raises his gun. “Becca, please stop what you’re doing.”

“No Bekka," Lexa says and stands in the way of the guard. "Keep going."

Before the guard can react, Lexa dismantles the gun from the guard’s hands in a grappling twist of his forearm. He drops the gun and she takes the opportunity to kick at his kneecap. The guard leans forward in pain and Lexa utilizes the guard's own momentum and elbows him unconscious. The three remaining guards respond, the first with the swing of a baton but Lexa ducks and delivers a blowing kick into his stomach, he falters back and crashes into a glass table. Lexa sidesteps a charge from the third guard, tripping him on his way past and finally and turns her focus to the last. His punch finds air as Lexa swiftly leans back and counters with a punch of her own followed by a close-bodied takedown.

Grimacing, Lexa grips her side from the sudden movements, stretching her healing gunshot. It's uncomfortable, but not unbearable and Clarke is entirely awestruck. Jaw dropped and eyes bulging at what she just witnessed. 

“Holy shit Lexa, that was hot. _So hot._ Where’d you learn how to fight like that?”

“I’ve been fighting since I was a child. I told you I needed to train,” replies Lexa, now twisting her torso to offset the favored side.

“Well fuck me, tell my Polis-self that I’m jealous.”

Lexa smirks. "I'm glad I can impress you."

Meanwhile, Becca is still typing. “Shit… dammit.”

“What?”

“ALIE is locking me out.” Becca abandons her desktop and turns to a safe located underneath her desk. She retrieves a USB drive with a different sense of determination. “Come on, I have five minutes to load this," Becca says and holds up the thumb drive. "It'll go directly into the hardware mainframe. ALIE can’t soft her way around it.”

They race out of Becca’s office and back towards the elevators. Becca scans her ID, the elevator doors open and they are greeted with an elevator full of guards with guns pointed. 

“Game’s over Becca, we need you to come with us. Please."

Becca puts her hands up. “Okay, okay…” And she slowly enters the elevator shaft.

As the elevator doors close, Becca pulls her badge in one swift motion and reaches in her pocket, tossing both her badge and the thumb drive at Clarke and Lexa through the remaining elevator gap.

“14th floor, stairs, go!” shouts Becca as the elevator doors close. 

“Aw fuck,” says Clarke and grabs Lexa's hand. “Come on.”

Clarke scans Becca's badge and it gains them entry into the stairwell. They climb three floors to the 14th floor and burst into a computer control room. It's filled with endless runs of wires, blinking terminals, monitors, and keyboards. 

Lexa is completely lost in the tech and looks to Clarke. "Clarke?"

Clarke spots the main console, lined with more keyboards than most and hurries across the room.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Lexa asks.

"Nope..." Clarke replies and blindly shoves the thumb drive into the USB port while maintaining an eye on the monitor screen. “Come on, come on," Clarke mumbles. "Do something."

Magically, a percentage upload screen pops up as the hard drive detects the thumb drive.

“That’s a good sign though,” says Clarke. “I-uh, I think we just wait.”

In less than a minute, the upload reads 90% percent. Unfortunately, footfalls can be heard and a single guard emerges from the stairwell with gun pointed. 

“Ladies, step away from the console.”

93%.

“Wait, just wait, please don’t shoot,” says Clarke and raises her hands above her head.

96%.

“I’m going to need to fire before that hits 100%. My target is the mainframe computer. I don’t want to shoot either of you. Now, _move_ ," the guard says in a stern and commanding voice. 

99%.

Lexa reads the situation and just as the guard depresses the trigger, Lexa steps into the line of fire.  The bullet hits Lexa in the lower abdomen. It's not immediately fatal, but she's bleeding out, quickly.

100%

“No!” Clarke drops to her knees and places her hands atop of Lexa’s wound. “No, no, no, how is this happening again. Why is this happening again…? Stay with me Lexa, look at me, stay with me.”

Lexa looks at Clarke’s memorizing blue eyes and smiles at the woman she loves. “Don’t be afraid Clarke. I’ll always be with you.” Lexa closes her eyes in reconciliation before losing consciousness.

 

∞

 

Waking up, Lexa immediately recognizes that she’s in a hospital room. Sterile white walls, IV in her wrist, and a heart monitor beeping beside her. To her left, she spots Clarke, dozed off while sitting in a chair beside her and holding her free hand.

Lexa inhales to speak but the pain was too much. Instead, she wiggles her left fingers inside of Clarke’s grasp, causing Clarke to stir and wake.

Clarke opens her eyes, relieved to find that Lexa is conscious, “Oh thank god! I can’t believe I’m doing this again. We did it, Lexa, we deleted the program and stopped the apocalypse.”

Lexa is utterly confused. She squint to reach back in her memory, tracing Clarke’s words but can't comprehend what her girlfriend is talking about. “Wha…” Pain sears through Lexa's stomach, but she did her best to ignore it. “What are you talking about?”

“Lex?”

“Yeah,” Lexa replies, swallowing to coat her dry throat and refocusing on her girlfriend’s expression. “Clarke, why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you remember getting shot a second time?”

“I was shot… twice? What the hell did I do the universe?"

“Babe?”

“What?”

“Oh my god! You’re back!” Clarke cries and hugs Lexa as gently as possible. “God, I hope she made it back to Polis.”

“What the fuck are you talking about Clarke? Are we still in Annapolis?”

“No… we’re home. In New York.”

“How’d I get home?”

Clarke smiles with awareness, “I’ll tell you about it later, okay?”

“Okay, babe,” replies Lexa.

 

∞

 

Somewhere in another time, another place, another universe.

Lexa opens her eyes a ray of sunshine coming in through her window. It dances across her collection of candles and she scans the room to find Clarke sleeping on the couch, which has since been dragged next to the bedside.

“Clar..” Lexa tries to speak but feels a searing pain in her abdomen. Lexa looks downt to investigate the would. It's the same bullet wound that she thought was healed weeks ago with no evidence of a second gunshot. Pushing past the pain, Lexa speaks up.

“Clarke?”

Clarke stirs and Lexa relives the hospital scene as she meets Clarke’s beautiful blue eyes, filled with love and relief.

“Lexa?” Clarke says under her breath and immediately moves to Lexa’s side. “I’m here. I’m here.”

“Clarke,” says Lexa with a smile, cupping Clarke’s face, “Did we do it?”

“Do what?”

“Stop the end of the world?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying, but Pike is dead and your blockade has stood down. Everything’s okay.”

Lexa smiles; she has returned to Polis and her time. “I guess we were meant together no matter what.”

“What do you mean?” says Clarke.

“Nothing," Lexa says and hugs Clarke tighter. “I love you, Clarke.”

Clarke leans back and looks at Lexa with awe. She spots something peculiar inside the brunette's eyes; profound contentment paired with an odd sense of familiarity like they had been together for years. Clarke finds herself in Lexa's eyes and has never felt more at home. 

“I love you too, Lexa,” says Clarke and leans in to kiss Lexa. 

“Clarke?”

“Hm?”

“Do you have JELLO in Arkadia?”

**Author's Note:**

> Enjoyed the fic?! Find/follow me on tumblr! @thessclexa
> 
> Disclaimer: I'm not associated with any locations depicted in my fan fiction. All publicly recognizable characters belong to their respective owners.


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